


Crawling Into Bed

by angel_xx



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phobias, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29176020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_xx/pseuds/angel_xx
Summary: What is the one thing Bond never expects to see in his bed? - his worse adversary? It's worse.
Relationships: James Bond/Felix Leiter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Crawling Into Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to express my sincere thanks to nothingtosay, zerozerokyu and Espritneo for feeding me ideas to write this fic! Thank you Kira for helping me with the summary too! :) This fic is a prologue and continuation to the sixth chapter of the James Bond novel Dr. No, and my first Bond/Leiter fic! Yay to new ships!

Bond was sound asleep when it happened. He could feel the foreign feeling of something on his leg wriggling about, how slowly the centipede was moving on him. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead, trickled down as he bit his lip. Now he was awake - at three o’clock in the morning - because of  _ an insect _ .

_ It’s just an insect. _

_ It shouldn’t do any harm, right? _

_ Of course, it’s going to do harm, you bloody idiot. It’s a CENTIPEDE!  _

Bond forced himself to stop thinking about the centipede.  _ Surely it will reside somewhere else. _ It was still crawling around.  _ Fuck, _ he thought. It had just nested on the scalp of his head. Dead silent, and motionless. Bond shivers at the thought of the unwelcome visitor laying its slimy eggs in his hair and the amount of time he would need to remove the said eggs once laid. The thought revolts him, it makes him sick. 

_ OUT! GET THE HELL OUT! _ His brain screamed at the centipede, hoping that it would get out eventually. 

The centipede slithered its way onto Bond’s sateen pillow. The subtle noise of it walking could be heard briefly, with his very own heart beating its way out of his chest. With a crash that shook the whole room, Bond rolled out of bed and onto the floor.

At once, he inched towards the door and flicked the lights on. The lights were blinding at first, but he noticed that he was trembling badly. Goosebumps formed on every part of his body - as if it weren’t obvious already. Bond stumbled back towards the bed, watching it crawl onto the blanket. His initial instinct was to dump the blanket on the floor, but he clenched his fists tightly, trying to calm himself down.

Bond’s heart rate reduced slightly while he waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. The centipede was now on the mattress, crawling towards Bond’s leg. He searched for something to kill it with. Slowly and steadily, he picked up his leather shoe by the television and came back. His mind was now wondering how the pest had got into his bed.

Bond lifted the shoe and slowly, almost sloppily, smashed it down. He heard the crack of the rough carapace. He lifted the shoe.

The centipede was wriggling side to side in agony - five inches of grey-brown, shiny death. Bond hit it again. It burst open, yellowly.

The centipede oozed with yellowy fluid, separated into two parts which were facing Bond. He looked at it and groaned in disgust after sniffing the odour briefly. Oddly enough putting a bullet in someone would not irk him, but killing an insect would have such a major impact. Blood was a frequent sight in his field of work, not insects nor bugs. After all, he is only human and regardless if anyone thinks that his line of work makes him cold and unwelcoming, he still has fears - even if they are unexpected to a normal human being.

Bond dropped the shoe onto the ceramic tile and bolted for the bathroom.

The cold from the bathroom tiles seeped through his bare feet, sending chills down Bond’s spine but he ignored it. He dropped onto two knees weakly, head hovering slightly above the toilet. He could feel his stomach knotting, contracting.

Bond clutched onto the bowl. He could no longer contain the nauseous feeling coming from the pit of his stomach and hurled.

Bond’s stomach contracted violently and he just managed to throw up into the toilet bowl with a sickly sound. With another heave, the congealed contents of his stomach emerged in the bowl, liquids and bits of food from the night before came pouring out. Bond groaned from the excruciating pain of vomiting, his mouth tasted sour and his throat burned from the acid that was forced out of his stomach.

Bond rested his back against the bathtub wheezing, his body trying to adjust back. He gargled the acidic saliva, in hopes of alleviating the nauseous feeling resting at the pit of his stomach - to no avail.

Bond felt a second wave of nausea and lurched back into the bowl but nothing came up. The realisation came as he found out that there was no longer anything to throw up; it was only his stomach contracting and acidic bile coming up.

It felt as if his throat was being set on fire as his stomach felt like it was being punched by a prize boxer. Bond’s body contracted violently from the dull ache in his stomach as he dry heaved into the bowl.

Leiter likely had heard the gagging noise from next door and slipped out of his room still groggy from sleep. He knocked on the door twice before entering.

The bright light seeped out of the half-closed bathroom door, and he stepped into the room, his eyes landed onto a crouching Bond in pain and ragged breaths. Leiter got a glass of water from the sink and knelt next to Bond, patting his back.

Bond felt the tears stream down his cheeks and incidentally, he ingested some tears. They tasted salty and it caused him to gag again - this time, with much pain in his voice as he croaked out a sob.

“Hey, James. You okay?” Leiter asked, placing the glass of water in between Bond’s hands. He noticed Bond’s hands were trembling as he attempted to sip some. Swallowing the water made it shoot back up, an instant mistake that he should never try to drink fluids right after a vomiting episode. The liquid sent back another wave of nausea.

Bond dropped the glass of water on the tiles and hurled back into the bowl. The sound of the glass shattering cuts through the silence. The next sound that follows was the sickly gags of him expelling the remaining content of his stomach. It hurt him and he could feel tears threatening to fall from the pain of his belly.

Leiter stood up and swept the glass shards underneath the sink. He felt terrible for Bond and watched the poor man choke on his saliva. Leiter went to the bed and saw the carcass of the centipede. It scarred him initially and he looked away in disgust, holding himself back from retching.

Leiter sucked in a deep breath and re-entered the bathroom. Bond had curled himself in a ball after flushing the toilet, shivering. Leiter wrapped him in a towel and escorted him slowly to his bedroom.

He tugged Bond to bed and removed the towel from his shivering body, wrapping them in a warm blanket. He could hear the man next to him sobbing and choking back his tears. 

Wrapping an arm around Bond, he ran a hand up and down his chest. “Shh.. shh. It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m here.” Leiter whispered. 

It was excruciating to see Bond so vulnerable and in pain. 

“It’s okay, Bond. You can sleep in ease now.” Leiter continued to console the sobbing agent in his arms. 

“But... but... I...” Bond uttered. He suddenly remembered that he had to finish the job later. 

“MI6 has already taken care of it.” Leiter stroked Bond’s hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of his sandy blond hair, now free of products. 

Five minutes later, Bond drifted to sleep with the knowledge that Leiter will be there to make sure he will be fine through the night.

The next day, a beam of light seeped through the curtains in the room. Leiter stirred softly, careful not to wake the  _ still _ asleep Double Oh in his arms. His arms felt a little sore from being in the same position for a couple of hours, but if it made Bond feel better, he would stay there forever. 

Bond nuzzled softly in the warmth of Leiter’s arms and opened his eyes slowly. “Morning, Bond. How are you feeling?” Leiter asked, smiling softly.

“Bit queasy, but I’m fine. Thank you for last night.” Bond murmured, returning the smile. He huddled closer to the warm spot and relaxed for a while. 

Leiter was relieved. He did the same, and then they got up and changed into some comfortable clothes. Both of them cleaned themselves up and went down for a hearty meal.

They had some breakfast at the far end of the restaurant. Bond had some scrambled eggs with orange juice, and Leiter had some bacon and sunny side eggs with apple juice. 

“What happened last night? You seem rather  _ pale _ after the incident.” Leiter asked, digging into his meal. 

“I was asleep till a centipede crawled on me. I’m  Scolopendrphobic, so when I killed it - the fluid and parts that came made me throw up.” Bond replied sickly. He stabbed absently into his scrambled eggs - the texture made Bond’s gorge rise, but he swiftly controlled it to prevent himself from hurling onto the table.

Leiter noticed Bond wasn’t eating, so he took one bacon from his plate and placed it on Bond’s plate. “You should eat something. You must have emptied your stomach last night and should be starving by now.”

Bond nodded. He cut the bacon into a smaller piece and ate it. The juicy bacon brought a brief smile to his face and he regained his appetite. He then cut his scrambled eggs and ate it too. Leiter nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry Bond, the housekeeping staff have already changed out the sheets. You’ll be able to rest now. It’s alright.” He reassured Bond with a bright grin flashing on his face. 

Bond heaved a sigh of relief. At least he won’t need to sleep with the fear residing in his mind tonight. He was glad that Leiter was by his side. They spent the afternoon walking in the flower garden located near their house, had a drink or two at the pub late at night and fell asleep together peacefully.

“And that son, was how I fell in love with your father.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this fic! It's been a while since I have last written something on AO3. Kudos and comments will be very much appreciated. Thank you! <3


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